A BIZARRE SUPER BOWL
FEBRUARY 4, 2017 A MOTEL OUTSIDE HOUSTON "Is he seriously not ready yet?" said the bespectacled chap in the blue Buffalo Bills jersey. "Schif" was on the back of the jersey. "What do you expect? He's the least sporty out of the four of us." said the light-haired girl in the black-and-green Philadelphia Eagles jersey with "Lemurs" on the back. "And yet, somehow, he's the only one who's already been to one of these." said the bearded fellow with the light blue Miami Dolphins jersey and backwards cap. "Future" was on the back. The door to their room opened and a brown-haired dude stepped out in a yellow-and-green jersey. "You thought it was an ordinary jersey..." was written in green letters on the front. "Eh, eh? Whatcha think?" asked the dude, showing the back of the jersey which read "...but it is I, Dio!" with a stylized outline of young Dio Brando's face in place of a number. "I'd say I was surprised, Xilly, but I'd be lying." said Lemurs. "Well if I'm gonna be spending the next few hours of my continued existence watching sportsball, I'm gonna at least look dope while doing it." said Xilly, who was posing. "That sounds like a line from a bad Vin Diesel movie." added Future. "So we gonna get this show on the road or what?" asked Schif. The group started driving down the road in a black 1969 Dodge Charger (with a small silver inscription reading 'Hell Charger' on the side). Schif drove, with Lemurs in the front passenger seat and Future and Xilly in the back. "Alright, you two, if those jerseys tell me anything it's that you're one bad quip away from agitating a lot of New England people. I don't want any funny business from either of you, got it?" said Lemurs. "Of course, why would we want to say anything?" said Schif. "I'm not agressive!" added Future. "Funny, I seem to remember a certain somebody wearing their Eagles jersey all through Dallas despite the fact that no one else was wearing theirs yet." added Schif. "Oh, hush." answered Lemurs. Meanwhile, Xilly was within his own thoughts: "SONO CHI NO SADAME, JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOJO~!!!" A while later, the Charger parked in a mostly filled lot in front of a stadium, a sign in front denoting it as "NRG Stadium". Additional signs indicated the event taking place: "New England Patriots vs. Atlanta Falcons: SUPER BOWL LI". The four got out, with Future opening the trunk and pulling out two signs. "Seriously?!" said Lemurs. One sign showed a picture of Patriots head coach Bill Belichick shaking hands with Donald Trump, with text reading "Need we say more?" The second one showed a picture of Pittsburgh Steelers head coach Mike Tomlin at a press conference, the text reading, "Yeah, I called the Patriots assholes. And?" "What? You said we couldn't say anything." said Schif. "Last I checked, holding up a sign doesn't require speaking words." added Future. Xilly stood in front of the car. "Hey dude, pretty sweet car ya got there." said a passing Patriots fan. "Oh, thanks. We got it out of San Diego. My friends said it would be best to get it there. Something like, 'There've been a lot of Chargers leaving San Diego lately' or something like that." said Xilly. "Seriously, you two are not going into that stadium with those signs." said Lemurs. "Aw, c'mon, we're just having a little fun--" began Schif. "Mad." An ephemeral clown appeared behind Lemurs as the signs suddenly transformed into pictures of a troll face. "Aw, come on, we agreed on no Stands! Maaaaan." groaned Future. "Well, we might get use out of these somehow..." added Schif. A few moments later the group made it into the stadium. "You two go find the seats, me and Xilly are gonna grab some grub." said Lemurs. "Kay kay." said Schif. "Hey dude, check it." said Future. "It's the Patriots locker room." "Uh-huh, I can see that." "You thinking what I'm thinking?" "Lawsuits and jail time up the ass?" "More like prime opportunity to screw with a certain pretty boy quarterback." "You're out of your mind, Future. Besides, there's no way you're getting past the guards." "Oh, I beg to differ. I saw those guards walking into the stadium before we got in. They had shirts with Obama on them." "Yeah, and?" "And? Liberals in Texas? That's a contradiction if I've ever seen it. And your Stand neutralizes contradictions, yeah?" "You're out of your mind." "C'mon, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and it's right there. Don't you wanna at least get a look?" "...I already regret this." "OBJECTION" yelled Schif, as small blue lights hit the guards, knocking them out. "Easy peasy!" said Future. "I'm having no more part of this. I'm gonna find Xil and Lemurs." "Suit yourself, Buffalo Bill! I'm gonna go do what every Dolphin fan dreams of doing." Future ran into the locker room. It was largely empty due to the teams warming up on the field. He looked through the lockers until he came across the one labeled "12 - Brady". He looked inside, only to stop when he heard a noise. In a panic, he hid inside the locker. Tom Brady approached it, whistling to himself. He noticed that the locker door was opened slightly. He began to open it, only to suddenly be decked in the stomach by a red armored figure. Future emerged from the locker. "Hi, Tom. Welcome to PAIN." said Future. Elsewhere, Schif met back up with Xilly and Lemurs. "Are you kidding me?" said Schif. Lemurs was giggling and staggering a bit. "I was gone for ten minutes! Not even ten minutes! How is she hammered already?!" "Got me, dude." said Xilly. "Whuzzat? Hammered, me? Naaaaah *hic*" said Lemurs. "We gotta get her to the seats." said Schif. "Where the hell is Future?" asked Xilly. "You really don't want to know." "Aight, whatever. Now we gotta get--" They looked, and suddenly Lemurs had vanished. "Aw, shit." said Xilly. "Damn she moves quick for a drunk girl!" exclaimed Schif. "That was barely half a minute, how the actual hell?!" added Xilly. "Alright, we gotta figure out what way she--" began Schif. "Hey, is that Dio?" said a voice. Two young girls in Falcons gear approached. "Wow. I thought we'd be the only JoJo people for miles." said one of the girls. "Sorry but we don't have time for--" began Schif, only for a suddenly-posing Xilly to interject. "--Don't have time to ignore anyone in a JoJo mood. Right, Schif?" "What? Dude, Lemurs is in-" "She'll be fiiiiiine." "Seriously, dude, what are--" One of the girls walked over. "Y'know, I've always found guys in glasses reaaaally sexy." "I appreciate that, but--" She whispered something in his ear. He paused for a minute. "OK, it can wait." They walked away with the girls. A shadowy figure looked on. "Dance, puppets, DANCE!" the figure said. A few moments later, Future walked to where they had been. He noticed Lemurs at a bar. "Hey, where'd Xil and Schif go?" he asked. "Off with a couple of Georgia peaches." she grumbled. "Ummmm, okay. And they just left you here?" "Well this beer was calling my name and I *hic* just couldn't ignore it. What the *hic* hell were you doing?" "I was, uh...getting Tom Brady's autograph. But they wouldn't let me in. Aaaaaanyway, we should be going, the game's about to start." As they walked to the seats, Lemurs continued on. "Y'know these Texas people have some points, everything is soooooo much bigger, like I drank just *hic* one gulp of this shit and I feel like I'm walking on air." "I believe it." "And we're gonna build a wall." "No we aren't." "And we're gonna make Hueco Mundo pay for it." "Damn you, both." The teams walked out, with Tom Brady holding an ice pack over his left eye. "I dunno, man, this dude just decked me a couple of times, then he stuck my toothbrush down his pants and ran off!" he said to a member of the staff. Meanwhile, in the crowd: "Now where the hell did those two go off to...?" thought Future. Elsewhere, in a bathroom in the stadium: "So, like, this guy looked me right in the face and tried telling me that Klefki was dumb. So I swept his ubers with it." said Schif to one of the girls. Inside one of the stalls: "Hang on a sec, if we're gonna do this properly, we need some atmosphere." said Xilly. He pressed a button on his phone, and the Pillar Men theme started playing. "Awakening something, eh?" said the girl, who began giggling. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her wallet, dropping it by accident. Xilly picked it up, then noticed something. He looked at her driver's license. "Wait...how old did you say you were?" "Um...18?" "Well either my understanding of how time works is off, or you're actually 17." "Well I mean...I'll be 18 next Tuesday." "Is your little friend with Schif 17 too?" "...maybe." "OH! MY! GOD!" "Hehehe...I feel a Metapod joke coming along." "Oh, you dirty little..." began Schif, only for Xilly to suddenly burst out of his stall. "DUDE, STOP!!!" he exclaimed. "Wh-what's the matter?" "She's seventeen, dude!" "Waitwaitwaitwaitwait, what?! Are you?!" "Uh...no?" said the girl sheepishly. "See, man, there's no way! I mean look at this, this ain't seventeen!" "I mean in a physical sense, I am, but not in a spiritual way." ".....oh, fuck." deadpanned Schif. "This is officially crisis mode, dude! We're in a bathroom trying to woo underage girls! We could go to JAIL!" griped Xilly. "No we aren't, because no one's ever gonna know about this." said Schif. "There's like a million people here, man! Someone must've seen something!" Schif slapped Xilly. "KEEP IT TOGETHER, MAN! We gotta find a way to get out of here, without yelling, because we are NOT going to jail, got it?" "Mmmhmm." "Good, now let's move." Xilly and Schif maneuvered their way to the seats. "Took you two long enough. The first quarter's almost over. The hell were you doing?" asked Future. "Uhhh, we were just using the bathroom." said Schif. "Yeah, we had to take, like, MASSIVE leaks. Certainly weren't doing anything that could get us on a list, no siree--" said Xilly, as Schif nudged him with his shoulder. "Oooookay." said Future. "What's with her?" asked Schif. Lemurs was leaning close to Future and slurring her words. "I think, yoooooou are a *hic* SPECIAL PERSON *hic*" "She's entered the weird phase of drunkenness." answered Future. The rest of the first half went by without incident, outside of a few players questioning why Brady's eye was swollen. Then halftime arrived. "Hey, you two looke after Lemurs for a few, I'm gonna head to the bathroom." said Future. He departed, and the halftime show began. "And now, for tonight's halftime performance, performed by world-renowned icons, Robbie and the Rottens!" *SAXOPHONE TUNES ENSUE* "We are number one, hey~!" *SAXOPHONE TUNES ENSUE* "We are number one~!" "Now listen closely!" As Future was in the bathroom, washing his hands, a dark-skinned bespectacled man in a Falcons jersey walked in. "Hello there, Mr. Future." said the man. Future turned around. "W-woah, Samuel L. Jackson?! Holy crap! Sir, I am a HUGE fan, it's an honor--" Mr. Jackson held out his hand and Future stopped cold. "There's no need for that, Mr. Future." Future calmly walked out of the bathroom. "We've met once already." he said, both himself and through Future's body. Meanwhile: "Did you seriously lose sight of her again?!" yelled Schif. "Yare yare daze. I can't take my eyes off her for two seconds without her sprinting off somewhere!" said Xilly. Then, atop the roof of the stadium, Lemurs appeared. She then leapt. "OH SHIT!" yelled Schif and Xilly. Lemurs landed face down with a thud on the stage to a chorus of gasps, only to immediately leap back up. She then swiped away Robbie Rotten's saxophone. "NO DON'T TOUCH THAT!" he griped. "Oh God, she's not gonna-" began Schif. She then began playing a saxophone rendition of 'Bad Romance' by Lady Gaga. Walking towards the Patriots locker room, Future was speaking to seemingly nobody. "Umm, Mr. Jackson? If you wanted me to punch Tom Brady in his stupid pretty boy face so much, you could've just asked. I don't need convincing." said Future in his own voice. "Yeah, I know that, but why should only one person get that priviledge?" said Mr. Jackson's voice, simultaneously through Future and from Jackson himself hiding within the bathroom. "What did you even do to me?" "A little diddy called 25:17. You see, Mr. Future, when you went inside the locker room earlier, you had second thoughts. But I fixed that shit real quick with my Stand. All I gotta do is look at somebody, and I can control their actions remotely from wherever I'm standing. I used it earlier on some Georgia peaches to distract your buddies, in case they felt like coming to get you. Just consider me the shepherd leading you all through the valley of darkness, down the righteous path, to combat the tyranny of evil men." Future walked into the locker room. It was nearly deserted. "Huh? Did the team leave already? Where is everyone?" he said. "Hello there, Sam." Future turned around rapidly to see Tom Brady standing there. "Wha, when did--?!" "Still trying to put me down, eh, Sam? I'll admit that you caught me off guard the last time, but I've more than caught up to your tricks. Using some geek in a Dolphins jersey was a cute touch, but unfortunately I'm done playing along." "Enough of this, Mr. Future, tear this motherfucker a new one!" yelled Sam. "Ball!" Future called out his Stand and it grabbed Brady's arm. "I've got you now, you cheati-" "WARUDO" A circular wave enveloped the area as the colors inverted, before withdrawing into Brady and switching the coloration back. He freed his arm. "Time...has stopped." Indeed, everything save for Brady had ceased movement. "That you managed to lay a hand on me when I'm not purposely taking a hit is impressive. All those hits in the first half lessened my reflexes so I wouldn't give too much credit. If not for Lord Dio's gifts..." He rubbed the back of his neck, revealing a star-shaped mark on his left shoulder that appeared to have been sown on. "Time will be ceased long enough that you won't know that you've been killed. You should be disappointed, Sam. You've led this fool to his death. Now I'll just finish up here and get back to my next 'incredible' rally. That of course won't be because of taking advantage of stopped time. That would be cheating, hehehehehe..." He raised his hand to strike...only for Future's Stand to suddenly move and deck Brady in the face. Brady recoiled in complete disbelief. "What?! What was that?! Time hasn't resumed yet! How can you be moving?!" Future began moving. "I grabbed your arm, jackass. One touch is all I need for Ball to swipe your ability. I keyed onto you having a Stand once you acknowledged Mr. Jackson's. And you know what? My ability usually only lasts seven minutes, but thanks to this little time stoppage..." Ball cracked its knuckles. "Time to get your MVP, Brady...your MOST VIOLENT PUMMELING." The Stand began relentlessly and rapidly punching Brady while shouting "VEEVEEVEEVEEVEEVEEVEEVEEVEEVEE" with every bunch. More and more punches followed, before one final punch blasted Brady onto the field. Outside, during the stopped time, guards appeared to be grabbing for an enraged-looking Lemurs as Schif ran onto it, while Xilly was frozen in a pose. Future looked down upon Brady. His eyes darkened. "And now...I claim my prize." An hour later, the four were driving away. Schif was holding Brady's jersey. "I can't believe you swiped this thing." he said. Future was driving, with Xilly and Lemurs in the back, Lemurs looking ill and holding an ice pack to her head. "And I can't believe they just let us go like that." said Xilly. "Course, we're permanently banned from coming within 50 miles of Houston and if those girls ever speak up me and Schif could end up on a very bad registry, but other than that it wasn't that painful!" "Speak for yourself..." grumbled Lemurs. Schif looked on his phone. "Oh, would you look at this..." The headline: "Pats forfeit Super Bowl as Brady Arrested for Indecency." The photo showed security guards leading a nude Brady away as Samuel L. Jackson appeared to be smirking and waving at him. "I'd say that's a happy ending." said Future. And so the four drove away into the sunset. "Hey, uh, Future. You didn't happen to see where the Super Bowl trophy went, did you? The article says no one can find it." said Schif. "Eh, probably got misplaced somewhere, hell if I know." said Future. Within the trunk of the car, the Lombardi Trophy sat. Scrawled on the front it read: "Super Bowl LI. Enemy Stands - 49, Tom Brady - MUDA." END